Running on empty
by Brothers-against-the-world
Summary: With John away on a hunt, Sams started to come down with something. Dean won't let up on his training, and Sams willpower can only stretch so far. Teen!chester.
1. Chapter 1

Title : running on empty

word count : 1,400

Teen!chester, not Wincest.

Dean:18 Sam:14

This idea came to me during my week of work experience in a ward on a hospital, and when ever I wasn't run off my feet, I was writing it!

Tell me if you think its any good, i've got about half of the second ( and final) chapter planned, just need to finish it and type it up, shouldn't take me to long. It's not going to be long one, and it might have a little kinks that need sorting out, as I typed most of it in the wee hours of yesterday morning. Be gentle!

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><p>Sam's head felt like it was repeatedly being hit with a mallet. He could hear his own heart beat, and was fighting the rising nausea. Just walking the fifty feet from the bus stop to their current house was exhausting him, and all day at the local high school he was feeling like death warmed up. By the time he finally managed to stop his hands shaking enough to fit the key in the lock and turn it, he couldn't manage the stairs to reach his bedroom.<p>

John had left for a hunt two days before, and Sam had been worse and worse ever since. He wasn't likely to be back for another couple days, so Dean had gone in to full drill seargent-mode.

He took off his heavily packed tattered backpack and let it fall to the ground with a thump. Dragging himself over to the couch used up the last bit of energy he had. Having skipped breakfast and not even been able to look at his packed lunch that Dean had given him without feeling like he would hurl, he was low on energy already. Within seconds, Sam had fallen asleep, only thankful for the reprieve from feeling like he was about to puke, pass out and die all at the same time.

It was about 2 hours later when Dean strolled in. He had taken a liking to one of the many girls in the small town with tiny miniskirts and low self esteem, coming back after school most days reeking like cheap perfume. Sam had accepted it, it was just part of who Dean was. It didn't mean he had ever liked it. Thats why Dean found it slightly surprising that Sam hadn't offered him a quick remark or sarcastic comment immediatly as he entered the room.

looking over towards the small couch in their living room, Dean saw Sam. His little brother was obviously out of it, limbs spread randomly over the cusions. Kids really growing up, Dean thought. No doubt their father would soon be wanting Sam to take on a bigger role in hunts, wanting him to become the soldier he had already moulded Dean to be. Might as well get him used to it, at least try and soften the blow.

" Up Sammy." Dean almost yelled, giving his sleeping siblings head a small nudge.

" Huh? ... What?" Sam responded slowly, sitting up carefully to face his smirking brother. He rubbed his eyes in a way that Dean had always thought made him look like a toddler again. He had never mentioned this to his father or Sam, knowing that if he did, Sam would stop doing it. Dean enjoyed seeing his little brother look exactly that, little, every now and then instead of the giant he was growing up to be.

" Time for some training little bro. Can't have you getting soft now, can we? Besides, you're the one that's got to keep my ass alive."

Grabbing his sweatshirt, Dean then walked out the house, striding towards the surprisingly large backyard.

Gathering all the strength he had gotten from his nap, Sam rose slowly off the couch and followed his brother out of the house. It was november, and there was a bad chill in the air.

Even though he wa still wearing his thick, long sleaved sweatshirt, Sam sivered in the afternoon air. He walked over to where Dean had stopped, standing next to him.

" Okay. I think we're gona start with some easy stuff. Clean hand to hand combat. No head shots, but pretty much anything else. You know the drill Sammy."

Dean finished, and crouched in to a fighting position. His fists in front of him, his knee's slightly bent to allow him to move quickly to attack or defend himself. He had a small height advantage over Sam, but he knew his brother was quick. With his long arms and legs, Dean was expecting him to use them and strike to make up for this.

" Go on the count of three. One. Two. THREE!"

Immediatly, Dean went for a sharp jab at sams lower back, trying to hit his kidneys. Even feeling like crap, sam still managed to spin and deflect the attack. At his young age, he still had years of training under his belt, but the effort of avoiding Deans attack left him seeing double.

Adjusting his balance, Dean went in for another try. Going for a hard punch to Sams side, Sam wasn't able to move quick enough to avoid the hard hit.

Feeling a blunt explosion of pain in his side, Sam stepped back putting his hands up in surrender. He felt like he had been hit by a truck, then had a house fall on him while his head was repeatedly hit with a hammer. He couldn't handle anymore, but he wasn't going to tell Dean that. His older brother already treated him like a baby, if he told Dean how he was feeling, there would be no end to it.

" Gettin' a little slow there buddy." Dean smirked, patting Sam's shoulder, getting back into a position to fight again.

This time, he had Sam pinned in less than 10 seconds.

" Seriously Sam, whats happening? You're gona get yourself killed if this is the best you can do. I can't always be watching you're every move little man."

Even though Sam was on the floor and close to thowing up, he still managed to roll his eyes at his brother. This wasn't a new topic from both Dean and their father, but it still hurt him deeply. He knew he was the baby of the family, and his father always managed to make him feel like a black dot on the otherwise spotless Winchester name. Dean wasn't as bad, but Sam still felt the familiar ache at not being good enough.

" Okay then, how about a run? Since hand to hand doesn't seem to be an option today."

Grabbing sams hand, he renched him to stand up. Sam swayed a little on his feet, but tried to hide it as much as possible. If Dean saw, he would only tell him off for complaining or making a fuss, tell him to grow up and stop whining Samantha. Sam brushed himself off, trying to keep as much dignity as possible in his current condition.

" So... i'm thinking a couple miles should get you going. Here, round the lake and back. Sound good?"

" Yeah, sounds great Dean." Sam tried to put as much enthusiasm as he could into his voice, making it convincing enough if not sounding a little strangled. He hoped Dean wouldn't notice.

" You sure? You don't sound so good?"

Ah crap. He noticed. " No Dean, i'f fine. Just a little throat tickle, nothing big. You ready to go?"

Dean still wasn't sure. But Sammy would tell him if something was wrong, wouldn't he? God Dean, stop being such a mother-hen Dean. He's grown up, a young man now. Stop babying him.

" Alright then. Go!"

Dean took off at a fast jog pace, and Sam at a slow. He knew he was going to have to take it slow if he was ever going to have a chance of finishing under his own steam. If he didn't, Dean would never shut up about it.

As Dean rounded the bend in the road that would lead them to the lake, Sams motivation was falling. The lake wasn't far from their current house, and Sam would never normally have had trouble running or even sprinting to and around it. But Sam wasn't feeling even close to normal. His hands were clammy, his head was throbbing like never before and his stomach was churning so much he was constantly thinking he was about to throw up.

Three minutes later, and he was practically crawling. He hadn't seen Dean again, and assumed he had reached the thick woodland that bordered the lake. Sam knew he couldn't last much longer.

A few more steps and he was leaning against a large tree, struggling simply to breathe. Just a little break wouldn't hurt. Sam was so tired, and he knew he would feel better after a while. He could catch up to Dean in a minute.

Sam didn't even believe that himself. He slid down the tree, eyes closing. The punding in his head was insane, and he could feel his limbs going numb. With in seconds of hitting the ground, Sam was unconscious, and in dire need of help.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapters a little longer than the last one, and is the final chapter :) Thanks to all of you who alerted, favorited or reviewed it ( or me), I really enjoyed seeing that and reading the reviews. Hope you Enjoy this one! Let me know if i've made any spelling/stupid errors, and i'll correct them.

Don't forget to review at the end if you liked it! Or even if you didn't. Please :)

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><p>It had been fifteen minutes and Sam still was no where in sight. Dean had started to worry about his little brother. On any other day, Sam would have been fighting tooth and nail to pin him during combat training, but today he was like a zombie.<p>

That would have been enough to make Dean worry by itself. Combine that with the fact that the last time he had turned to look at his brothe, Sam was at a pace that a ninty year old woman wouldn't have found difficult, and you've got one overly concerned big brother. Alright, mother-hen, Dean could admit that to himself.

Stopping his already slow pace, Dean waited for a minute, hoping Sam would come running past him with some smart ass remark. Sam didn't show.

He knew that something was seriously wrong now. His geek of a brother would never pass up the opertunity to thrash Dean. At least, not by choice.

Starting to full on panic, he started quickly joggig back along the road, looking everywhere for any sign of Sam. On the road, the path next to it and even the shrubbery and thick trees after that. Knowing Sam, the little klutz had probably managed to hurt himself one way or another, and would be back at the house nursing both his wounds and his pride.

In seconds, that hope was crushed. Turning the large bend in the road, he could make out a small lump just behind a large tree just off the road. If it weren't for his excellent eyesight and training, Dean probably wouldn't even have noticed.

Even from where he stood frozen on the spot, Dean could just see the unruly mop of rich brown hair and collection of freakily long limbs that was his brother. He also noticed something in those few seconds after seeing Sam that shot a huge peice of ice through his heart. Sams chest wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing.

That was enough to shock Dean back to his senses, and he sprinted as fast as he could towards Sam, desperate to reach his brother. Sam was just playing some stupid prank on him. He had to be. This couldn't be happening. Not to Sammy.

He got to Sam in What must have only been seconds, but felt like a life time. Dean reached out and shook his brother.

"Sammy? Come on dude, don't do this to me!"

He yanked Sam flat, putting a finger to his neck desperate to feel a fast pulse.

And with in a few seconds, Dean felt the sluggish thrum of Sams faiding heartbeat. He lt out the breath he didn't know he had been holding, but this was far from over yet. Sam wasn't getting any oxygen, and when his father had taught him and sammy CPR, he had told them what that could mean if it went on for too long. Over 3 minutes and there was a possibility of brain damage.

He quickly ripped Sams sweatshirt over his head, leaving him in his t-shirt. He would need to angle Sams head back to try and get him breathing again.

He pinched Sams nose, preventing the air from coming out there. Here goes nothing, Dean thought.

He pressed his lips on Sams, blowing air into his lungs. Letting go, he inhaled again, and repeated the process. Sam still wasn't breathing.

" Damn it sammy! Wake up before I kill you myself!"

Gripping Sams nose once again, Dean breathed twice for his brother. All he could feel now was terror. He had never felt sheer pani and dread like this before, even though plenty of situations have called for it. In all the many times his own life had been in danger, Dean had never felt like this before. Like his heart was being ripped out through his chest, and it would never end.

" NO. No Sam, i'm not going to loose you. Not on my watch."

Dean breathed for his brother again, giving all he had into trying to bring his little brother back to him.

It was after his sixth consecutive breath that Sam began to choke and gasp, trying to draw oxygen in to his already air starved body.

" Thank God. Oh... Thank you."

Dean wiped away the tears he had been to busy to notice, tryig to regain some sense of calm. He needed to get sammy somewhere safe and warm. He was still pretty out of it, but at least he was breathing. Dean sat for nearly a minute, just listening to his brother breathing. He needed to make sure he wasn't imagining it.

All he had to do now was get his heavy ass brother over half a mile back to the house. This should be fun.

Putting on arm unnder sams shoulder blades and the other under his knees, lifting slowly off the ground till Sam was safely supported.

" Jesus Sammy, lighten up on the rabbit food."

Thankfully, the half mile wasn't to far for Dean. With Sam, it took him about 20 minutes at walking pace. After struggling with getting the key in the door for a further couple minutes, he had finally settled the still unconscious Sam on to the large sofa that sat against the wall in their living room.

Dean put a hand on Sams forehead, checking for a temperature. He could feel the heat coming off of Sam, and he guessed he had a pretty high fever. This wasn't the kid of thing that just happened, Sam must have been sick before. Dean was going to knock some sense in to the little punk for not telling him before...

He went to the small kitchen next to the living room and took a clean cloth, wetting it with some cool water. He went back to Sam and placed it gently over his head, trying to cool him down.

Dean was brought back from his inner monologue by a small moan from Sam. The kid was finally coming around. Dean wanted to find out more about what was wrong with Sam, and having him talking would help with that. There was a doctors clinic not farther than a mile or two from their house, so if it got any worse Dean wouldn't hesitate to take Sam there.

Sam shifter his head a little on the pillow Dean had proped under him, obviously starting to feel more uncomfortable as he woke up. Dean went and grabbed some pain killers out of his bag to give to Sam if he had any pain.

" Sammy? Come on, up and at 'em kiddo."

This elicited another noise from Sam, but it seemed to be more one of annoyance than pain, Dean thought.

" I know buddy, I know. But you just have to open your eyes for a little Sammy, just so I can check you over. For me?"

"Mhhh...nhhh"

" Didn't quite get that Sammy. How're you feeling?"

Sams eye lashes fluttered, and he opened his left eye to look at Dean, who was now kneeling on the floor and at eye level to Sam, leaning his elbows on the sofa next to Sams chest. Dean could see that Sam felt like crap, and was probably more than a little confused.

" How... wha'... hap'nd?"

" You don't remember? I hadn't seen you in a while, so I jogged back to have a look. But we can talk about that when you'll actually be able to understand."

Dean quickly walked to the kitchen again, this time grabbing a glass of water. He got out two tylenol in his hand from the pack he had grabbed earlier, and knelt next to Sam again.

" Sam? Are you going to be able to do this, or do I need to help?"

Sam held out a shaky hand, signaling to Dean that he wanted to do it himself. Dean should have known, Sam was a hard headed, stubborn little idiot.

He managed to get the pills in his mouth, but Dean knew giving him the water would only end with more cleaning.

" Ok, you ready? I'm just going to hold the glass to your mouth, just try and drink a little."

Dean put the glass up to Sams lips, and Sam took a small mouthful. Making sure that he swallowed the pills, Dean let him have a couple more sips before putting the glass down on the coffee table net to the couch.

" You should get some sleep, Sam. I'll get you up in a couple hourse to check on you, alright?"

" K...De'n..."

In just a couple seconds, Sam was sleeping comfortably. Dean had a couple hours before he had to wake up his brother, so settled on the end of the couch next to Sams feet. He turned on the TV, and attempted unsuccsesfully to get rid of the guilt that had started to take over him.

The western movie that Dean had switched over to had just finished, and it would be time to wake Sam up soon. As he looked down at his brother, he could see that he looked better than... well, when he had to be freaking resuscitated.

The fever had gone down to a more acceptable level, and Sam had got some colour back. He still wasn't good, but recovered enough to stop Dean rushing him to the doctors. Looking at him now, he couldn't help but think about how young he looked. At his age, Sam should be worried about pimples, or his first date. Instead, he was thinking about creatures that none of his peers would ever knew existed, worrying about the possibility of his family of himself dying.

Its okay for Dean, he had known his mother and remember her. But Sammy, he had never had one. How was he supposed to get revenge for loosing something he never knew he had? Dean didn't blame Sam for trying to work so hard at school, even trying to get out of the hunting life. That choice had been taken away from Dean, he was to far in to ever try and find a way out.

But Sam wasn't. He still had some innocence left, still had dreams. And it killed Dean inside to know that no matter how hard sam tried, he would always be different. He would always be looking over his shoulder, alert and afraid of whats out there.

Dean was going to do whatever he could to keep some of the loving, giving Sammy he loved and treasured for as long as possible.

Two hours up, Dean leant over and shook Sam lightly on the shoulder. Sam groaned, turning his head towards the back of the couch.

" Come on, just for a little Sam. Please?"

" No... go 'way Dean..."

" Thats more like it! Feeling any better sleeping beauty?"

Sam opened his eyes a little, just enough to roll his eyes. Thats more like the normal Sammy Dean was used to.

" Feel 'bit dizzy."

" You would. Sam, I can't... why the hell wouldn't you tell me you were feeling bad? Seriously! You nearly..."

Dean couldn't bring himself to say it. Died. Sam had nearly died. If he hadn't found his brother when he had, he might have.

Sam looked down at his feet, playing with the blanket Dean had put over him. If he told Dean, about how he had been feeling and why he didn't say anything, Dean wouldn't understand. He didn't know what it was like to never feel good enough, to always want to change yourself.

" It was nothing... I wasn't feeling that bad. Probably just a bad cold."

" Sam, Don't lie to me! You weren't the one who found his brother half Dead! You weren't breathing Sam! I had to give you mouth to mouth. If it hadn't worked... if you hadn't... Jesus, Sam."

That shocked Sam. He knew he shouldn't have been moving when he already felt horrific when he got home, but not that bad. Stopping breathing... maybe he should have told Dean earlier.

" Mouth to mouth? Gross Dean!"

" Seriously! Thats what you're freaking focusing on Sam? You could have DIED Sam!"

Sam saw something then. He saw the fear burning through Deans eyes, directed to him. He had always said Dean showed everything through his eyes, and he had gotten exceptionally good at reading them. Dean had been terrified. Afraid of loosing him. Sam felt warm, and could plainly see the love in his brothers face that he had been so afraid of loosing for months.

" I nearly lost you earlier Sam. Why the hell would you put yourself at risk like that?"

" I... I'm sorry. I honestly didn't know it was that bad. I felt bad when I got home from school, but I thought it would just go away. I'd gotten dissy on the way home, managed to wack my head pretty hard on a bench."

Sam paused to consider what he was going to say next. He knew Dean was pissed, and things were going to get worse before they got better.

" I just thought it would go away, that I was being a baby."

" Sammy, I..."

" Shhh. Let me finish. Just don't get mad."

Dean paused for a moment, wanted to talk to his idiot of a brother, but he nodded. Getting whatever it was off his chest might help Sam. Dean knew that he wouldn't be able to handle another one of these days for a while, so he needed to have Sam telling him things.

" I didn't want to tell you. You and dad, you're both natural hunters. You're quick, you know what you're doing. Dad taught you everything you know. Me... I'm not. Sure, I get the job done, but not perfectly. Not how you and dad want."

Sam took in a shaky breath. He had been holding this in for years. If he was ever going to get through this, he couldn't stop.

" I don't want this life. You and dad are all I have, but the way we live - its not right. But every single day, I fight to get better, stronger. You don't understand the pressure I get Dean! You're the first born, good at everything. You don't know what its like to constantly feel like a failure, an embarrasment. To your own freaking family!"

Sam looked at his brother. Deans eyes had changed. Now Sam could see hurt, confusion, maybe a bit of anger. But the most obvious was sadness.

" Sammy. I... if I'd known you felt... you should have said something."

Dean wiped at his eyes. He was pretty sure Sam had already seen the wetness building there, but he refused to let him see any more. He had no idea his brother felt this bad. He knew his dad put a lot of pressure on him, more than he put on Dean, but he never knew it had this effect on Sam. He was supposed to take care of Sam, protect him. Instead, Dean had been riving him to keeping possibly life treatening secrets.

" Sammy, I'm sorry. You know I don't think of you like that. You're about as far from a dissapointment as you can be."

Sam looked down. This belief would obviously take a little more convincing to get rid of.

" Seriously. Do you know how proud Dad is of you? How well you do in school, how much you care. He see's so much of mum in you, kiddo. You balance us out. You keep me and dad sane, keep us grounded. We need you, you little twerp."

" As for me, you know how I am of you, don't you?"

Sam didn't respond, so Dean continued.

" You know, I don't know how you manage it. With the life we have, the things we see. By the time I was your age, I was pretty messed up. But you - not you. You've still got your fighting spirit, your different way of seeing things. And I wouldn't change that for anything Sammy, not a thing."

Dean could see that this was exactly what Sam had needed, and he had been the one not giving it to him. His guilt got just that bit deeper. He should have been telling his brother how much he meant to him, how much he admired him. Not making him feel like crap about himself.

" Dean - you're not just saying that? Seriously?"

" No Sammy, I meant it. All of it."  
>Dean could see a few small tears slip out of his eyes, no matter how much Sam tried to hide them.<p>

" Thanks Dean."

Damn, Dean thought, that was one honking great chick flick moment. But he would even risk his ego to make Sam feel better.

Now, time to get back to normal.

" Don't think you're out of it Sammy. You remember what I said earlier? You can't keep that from me Sam. You feel bad, you tell me."

" I get it Dean. Take the mother-hen down a notch."

" Hey! This all for you're benifit. I don't think I could handle having to kiss you again. Gross."

" Dean!"

" What? I can genuinly say that was on my list of the top 10 things I would never want to do."

" Never. tell. Anyone. Or so help me..."

Dean let out a deep chuckle. God, it felt good to laugh. Sam was happier than he had been in ages, and he was on the mend.

" Don't worry bro, no risk of that. Now, get some more sleep, i'll check on you again in a couple hours."

Dean stood off the couch, standing to face his brother. Sam shuffled down the couch under the blanket, getting comfy in the space where Dean had just moved from.

" Dean?"

" Yeah?"

Sam looked up at Dean, the already visible small worry lines on his face dissapearing. It took years off his face.

" Love you."

" Love you to Sammy."

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><p>Neither of the boys would tell their dad about what happened, and whatever Sams strange illness was had gone by the time John had returned. Sam and Dean didn't talk about their heart to heart, both a little afraid to have that much oestrogen flowing again. But that didn't mean that they wouldn't both think about it often. Whenever they argue, they both think of this day. Sam thinks of Dean, when he showed the caring, sweeter side that Sam always knows is in him. Dean remembers Sam, the innocent, giving soul that is always at Sams core.<p>

This, the fact that they know each other like no other could, is what keeps them going. Keeps them fighting to save the other. Always.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed it! Please review for me :)<p>

x


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